The power they gave was as formidable as it was frightening. We were to stand against the endless dark, after all.

ARC 5 - PARACLETE

CHAPTER 9 - DECEIT

Wood struck wood with a sharp crack. Raegn reacted immediately, sinking under Nora’s counter. Her quarterstaff whirred over his head as he stepped through her gait, bringing his own weapon up beneath her chin.

“Good,” she said and shrugged the end of his weapon out of her face. “You have more power in the thrust than you probably need, but so long as you don’t over-commit the recovery comes smoothly.”

Raegn grinned wildly. There hadn’t been enough time training with Eryk and Tylen to perfect his movements, especially when it came to the spear. His swordplay had improved immensely as it needed the most work, but the Justicar duelist didn't afford the same attention to other weapons. Not when Raegn was under his brief tutelage, anyway. Nora had apparently memorized every word Eyrk had ever said, though, and with every hour or two a day they spent training together Raegn felt the small gaps in his martial prowess fill.

“Let’s call it a day?” Nora said, more a statement than a question as she hefted her quarterstaff onto a shoulder. She headed towards Victoria. The princess hadn't noticed they’d taken a break from where she sat on a bench, safe in the shade of the courtyard wall. She’d been engrossed in a book most of the afternoon, turning the pages as eagerly as Raegn had been resetting after each sequence of strikes.

He did so again, one final time. With hips dropped into a fighting stance, he raised his wooden weapon in provocation.

“Why not go for real?”

Nora half-turned on him with mocking scorn. “If they’re not real weapons, it’s not a real fight.”

“Might be as close as we ever get,” Raegn answered with a small shrug.

She took the bait. With shoulders squared she gave a twirl of the quarterstaff, then set it in her grip and mirrored his stance.

“For your sake, I hope so,” she grinned.

Raegn rushed forward. She’d expect many things - and have an answer for all of them, too. Anything he’d ever shown her, she would remember; her reaction time was like nothing he’d ever seen. He didn’t stand much a chance were he to try and slog it out. Not much of one even if he tried to end it in one or two brutally quick attacks, either.

Nora’s staff struck out with the deadly intent of a snake’s bite. Raegn shifted his stride wide, letting the thrust pierce the air where his face had been a moment prior. With a lunge to the side, he opened up her defense and aimed low into her torso. She stepped through the attack, his weapon finding naught but air. His next two swings were parried in close enough that he could’ve grabbed her if he were willing to abandon the grip and stability of his weapon. Nora would never allow it. Her counters came swiftly, forcing him back out to range where his greater strength was more easily managed.

The only path to victory was in the unknown.

Raegn lunged in again, this time aiming high at her chest. Nora contorted her torso to dodge while pushing the attack wide with her staff, then thrust down in retaliation. Her strike would’ve caught him in the stomach if it could reach him. Instead, she lost her balance as Raegn’s weight continued into her, her legs pinned in place by his staff that he’d dropped behind her knee when she’d left it to pass harmlessly by her.

Raegn freed a hand and caught her by the collar of her breastplate to save her from the fall. Her hair whipped as she came to an abrupt stop, hanging above the ground with only her heels in the sand and her opponent leaning over her. She was quite lovely, especially with their faces only a breath apart. Golden hair, bright blue eyes, and a delicate face and figure that masked the might beneath. Raegn remembered the first time he’d seen her. Naked in the shallow pool deep beneath the Citadel, he’d mistaken her for an angel. She was the ideal Elysian, even when sweat plastered a lock of hair to her forehead and beaded above her lip.

He pulled up on her breastplate and kissed her. She allowed it, maybe even kissed him back in the shock of it, but only for a moment. In the next, she dug her fingers into the tendons of his forearm, forcing him to wince and pull her all the way up until she was standing.

“First, how uncouth of you,” Nora said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared down at his fist still bunched on the collar of her armor. “Why would you do that?”

Raegn blinked absently. Why had he done it? Because it felt like he should? The feeling wasn't his own, though. There hadn't been any thought to it. It was as though he'd lived someone else's fantasy. Nora was attractive, sure, but she was his sponsor and a good friend. Light, he still longed for her sister. Tera might never speak to him again if she heard of this.

“I guess, I figured I’d take a prize,” he shrugged, hoping to downplay the mistake.

She narrowed her eyes further at that. “Second, that was a cheap shot to trip me.”

Thank the heavens she was willing to move on. “There’s no such thing as a cheap shot in a true fight,” he teased.

“That so?”

Raegn felt the sharp pressure of a knee to his groin. The pain was acute at first, but spread quickly. Dizziness took his head and the urge to vomit knotted his gut.

“Fair enough,” he gasped as Nora walked away, leaving him on his knees in the dirt and nursing his manhood.

He heard Nora say something else, his focus too broken to hear, but he did hear Victoria giggle nervously at it. An embarrassing end to an otherwise triumphant victory.

The princess earmarked the corner of the page she was on and gently closed the book. She rose, gave a glance full of guilt and pity in his direction, and made her way out of the courtyard with Nora off her shoulder. Once they were out of sight, Raegn took a moment's pause and gathered a deep breath. He hissed as he forced his legs to straighten and bear his weight. The dull ache deepened in his stomach as tender steps took him to the courtyard wall. Quarterstaffs placed on the rack, he began shuffling his way in the direction the two girls had gone.

He didn’t have to go far to catch up. The two had become part of a larger crowd of women, all of them servants save for the princess, her Crownguard, and…Tanis?

Raegn approached slowly, but there was no mistaking her. The Shaktikan royal was at the center of the circle, but not the focus - the girl whose back she rubbed and tears she dried was. The servant was plopped on the ground, hands furiously wiping eyes leaking like a sieve and shoulders trembling.

“I won’t let him,” he heard Tanis say as she hoisted the girl up with the help of two others.

The girl gave a few weak nods and then was bustled away by the huddled mass of women in drab dresses.

“What happened to her?” Victoria asked once the group had gone.

Tanis ran a hand through her black hair and turned as if she hadn’t realized they were there. “My brother,” she sighed. “For all his simpleness, he’s remarkably good at threatening people. Never remembered his lessons or chores when he was younger, but he doesn’t forget a weakness.”

“Oh?” Victoria shrunk back, her hands tightening on the spine of her book.

“You’ve nothing to worry about, of course,” Tanis added with a smile. “He treats family differently.”

Tanis wrapped herself around Victoria’s arm and set them off down the palace halls. Raegn did his best not to roll his eyes as he and Nora fell in behind the royals. The way the Shaktikan princess bounced as she walked gave her an air of constant excitement and the blank smile one of, well, she looked a bit ditzy, really. Hard to get a read on, though. Tanis had worn the same magnificent robes her father and brother had when they'd been at the arena, but outside of the public eye, she seemed to always be in pants and a tight tunic. It was boyish, except it did nothing to hide her figure which revealed just the opposite. But at least she was kind enough to Victoria when they spoke. If Raegn allowed himself an inkling of hope for the dainty Elysian, then perhaps if the marriage went through Victoria might finally have a family member who didn’t want to use her. A friend, too, if the way she let Tanis interlace their fingers as they walked was any sign.

“What, um, what was it that the First Prince threatened her with?” Victoria asked while they walked.

“Hm? Oh, the servant girl?” Tanis gave a thoughtful frown as if she might not remember. “Something to do with her younger brother, I think. Sending him to the arena rather than to the training camps.”

“Training camps?”

“Where those who hid their affinity go,” Tanis clarified. “Out in the desert. They leave tomorrow. Always at night, though, so people don’t have to look at them. Disloyalty is such a revolting sight.”

It took all of Raegn’s will not to snap his head towards Nora. She was hearing all this, too, right? The Emperor was gathering his own people with affinity and ferrying them elsewhere? That alone brought enough of an answer that King Melrose would want to hear it. There was a hiccup in Raegn’s stride at the thought of their conversation with the King months ago. Was this part of the game? The King’s spies had been unable to learn things about the Shaktikan Empire, so he’d used his own daughter? Clever, if it were true. Clever and incredibly callous.

“Oh, I’d almost forgotten. I’d promised father I’d speak with him today,” Tanis said with a hand to her forehead. She leaned in quite suddenly, causing Victoria to flinch. The Shaktikan princess pressed on, planting a small peck onto Victoria’s cheek and leaving her stunned in the hall. “See you at dinner!” Tanis called just before rounding a corner out of sight.

“Is that normal custom?” Raegn asked with a frown.

Nora only shrugged, then nudged Victoria to get her going down the hall. The princess took half a dozen strides with a hand on her cheek before the limb shot down to her side and she resumed her delicate stride and stiff neck. Nora took a quick step forward, allowing her to lean forward and whisper something to Victoria through a smile. The princess gave a wide-eyed glance, then locked her head forward as they traversed the halls back towards her room. Whatever it had been, it was of some small embarrassment, for Victoria’s ears became scarlet.

Four had stood in the center of the open courtyard. Their clothes were tattered and caked with dirt, yet their shoulders up and proud. They’d kept that air of pride even as three were led away by Crusader Swann.

Then only one remained.

Being alone only made the fourth stand taller.

She’d made it. If she were the last to be called, it could mean nothing else. The pain and aches she’d suffered over the past two seasons had not been in vain. She’d passed. Thrived, even. The other candidates had been surprised at her abilities, sure. The instructors even more so at times. But in the end, the power she’d been given had seen her through.

No, Tera reminded herself. It wasn’t given, it was earned. Harut could’ve chosen anyone. It was her own strength of will, not an Angel’s, that brought this victory.

A large shadow appeared between the columns at the edge of the courtyard. It towered above the one next to it. The two stood together for a time, devoid of movement. If they spoke, it was too soft for Tera to hear, yet by some unseen signal, they stepped out into the pale light of the moon in unison.

She took a breath. This was the moment. High Justicar Aldway was coming to call her name. But why was Merced here, too?

The commander of the Justicar wore armor of shining silver that glimmered in the faint light as he came to a stop in front of her. Merced, by comparison, hardly looked any different than he had when he’d been hidden by shadow. The black of his pants and tunic were near indistinguishable from that of his cloak, his hardened face the only human thing about him.

“Candidate Ten,” Cenric said, then sighed as if in need of gathering himself. “Terosa Caloman,” he tried again, but his mouth stayed open with no words to follow.

Tera stiffened. Something was wrong. Merced shouldn’t be here. And what did Cenric have to be unsure of? He was not known to hesitate.

“Just tell her,” Merced groused.

Cenric pursed his lips after giving them a quick lick. “Tera, the Justicar cannot accept you.”

It was as if the world shifted beneath her. She took a staggered step to keep her balance and shook her head to try and bring things back into focus.

“Please understand, it is not because I wouldn’t have you,” Cenric continued.

“Your circumstances are somewhat special,” Merced added.

Tera brought a hand to her head. Why was everything still spinning? “I-I don’t understand,” she managed. “I passed. I did everything in the trial.”

“You did,“ Cenric agreed.

“Then I want to be a Justicar,” she pleaded.

Cenric’s face filled with agony. “We are…aware.”

The exiled farling was normally a pillar, unshakable and bearing the weight of the most prestigious warrior organization in the Realm. His heart was resolute, his strength unfailing, and his quiet confidence, inspiring. Yet that guard came down and all Tera could see was how human he was. That his eyes were just as tired as anyone else’s. That the strands of gray hiding within the swath of hair down the center of his head were not entirely of age. That uncertainty clawed at the edges of his tenacity.

“Then why?” she asked.

“Tera, you won’t pass the final trial. It would kill you.”

Cenric’s words were a punch to the gut, yet rather than letting the blow sap her strength, she fought back.

“You don’t know that!” she cried.

“You’re right. I don’t,” Cenric admitted. “But Harut does. She came to tell us earlier and, honestly, I’m thankful she did. I never would’ve forgiven myself if I’d brought you to death’s door.”

Tera’s eyes filled with fire. Harut? She’d been the one who wanted her to take the trial. Why would she stop her at the final step? What advantage did the Angel gain? All that training and motherly encouragement had been an act!

“At her recommendation, we’ve come up with a compromise,” Cenric explained. “You will technically be an Inquisitor, but within the Order and elsewhere you will present yourself as a Justicar.”

Information, she realized. It’s all the Angel ever wanted. Inquisitors would know all. She’d been deceived into taking the trial, been told her dreams were finally within reach, only to step out of the fog and find nothing on the other side. And to present herself as a Justicar? Everything had been a lie. They wanted her to live a lie.

“And if I refuse?”

“Caloman, you are the first mage to ever exist within the Order’s ranks,” Merced growled. “I’m not sure you understand the significance of that and I’m damn sure the Order isn’t ready for it.”

“Well they can—”

“You think you see the merit in the tales they would tell,” Merced continued over her. “A mage joins the Justicar that once hunted her kind. Some sign of unity to stand against the Void. It’s childlike and unbecoming of you.”

Tera recoiled and hung her head. This felt like two adults scolding a child. Tears began to climb into her eyes, her throat too tight to choke them back down. Why? Why couldn't she just have what she wanted? She'd worked so hard!

“Whatever you do, you will set a precedent,” the Inquisitor said. “If you so wish, then refuse. You can walk away from the entire Order. But would you be ready for those that follow? If word of you gets out, people will flock to you thinking you can grant them the power that was bestowed upon you. What would you tell them? Or perhaps they’ll come to kill you for what you are,” he said, adding some bite to the possibility. “What then?”

Tera didn’t have an answer. She didn’t want to be followed. She certainly didn’t want to be hunted. She’d only wanted to be a part. To join her friends. To keep up with them.

“Then stay,” Merced answered for her when her shoulders slumped. “Accept this, much as you hate it now. Change it over time. Light, your spells let you bend parts of the world to your will. Are you so daft as to think you can’t do the same to your circumstances?”

The Inquisitor draped in black came around to stand alongside her, Cenric in his shining armor taking up the other side.

“Take the step forward,” Merced said. “You earn nothing by standing still.”

A weary foot reached out to find a new place to rest. The next followed. One by one her footprints took her from the light of the courtyard and into the shadow at its edge.